Chapter 42 - The Confession on the Asphalt
Before Marcus could recover his sidearm, Jared closed the distance in three violent strides. He kicked the fallen weapon ten yards into the darkness and planted his heavy combat boot directly onto Marcus’s chest, pinning his older brother into the soaked earth.
The muzzle of Jared’s handgun was pressed firmly against the center of Marcus’s forehead.
Rain poured down Jared’s face, dripping from his chin onto Marcus’s scarred, gasping features. The older brother coughed, spitting a mixture of rainwater and blood onto his own tactical collar, his eyes wild and burning with unadulterated venom.
"Do it," Marcus wheezed, his ribs clearly cracked beneath the ballistic plates. "Pull the trigger, Jared. Prove to your kids that you're just like Dad. Prove that the Vance blood is rotten all the way through."
Jared didn't waver. His finger rested lightly on the trigger, the hammer back, his breathing slow, controlled, and deadly.
"You're not worth the paperwork, Marcus," Jared said, his voice devoid of anger, containing only a cold, crushing finality. "You died fifteen years ago. As far as the law is concerned, you're just a home invader who picked the wrong house."
Sheriff Higgins and four deputies came charging up the gravel drive, their tactical lights blinding, weapons drawn and leveled.
"Jared! Step back! We've got him!" Higgins bellowed, his voice cutting through the dying thunder.
Jared slowly eased his finger off the trigger, lowered the weapon, and engaged the safety. He stepped back, raising one hand to signal his compliance as the deputies swarmed Marcus, forcing his arms behind his back and snapping heavy steel cuffs onto his wrists.
Marcus thrashed against the mud, laughing hysterically as they dragged him toward his feet.
"You think this is over, Jared?!" Marcus screamed, his face smeared with black dirt and blood. "Check your corporate escrow account! Melissa didn't just give me the shop codes! She signed the corporate ownership transfer three days ago using your forged power of attorney from when Dad was in hospice! The commercial yard isn't yours anymore! It belongs to the syndicate in Chicago! You're broke, little brother! You hear me?! You're just as broke as Melissa!"
Jared stood motionless in the rain, watching his brother being shoved into the back of the cruiser.
Sheriff Higgins stepped up beside Jared, throwing a heavy waterproof jacket over Jared’s drenched shoulders.
"You alright, son?" Higgins asked, his eyes grim as he surveyed the shattered glass, the spent shell casings, and the second operative being brought down the front stairs in cuffs by two deputies.
"Noah and Ellie are in the safe room," Jared said, his voice raspy. "I need to get to them."
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"Go," Higgins nodded firmly. "State police and the feds are already mobilizing. We intercepted a burner phone call from Melissa twenty minutes ago. She's in custody at the county substation right now. She broke, Jared. She gave up everything."
***
